Adventure Magazine Cover — page 106: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

104 _ “Of course you know that I’m depending on you, Thelpin. We understand each other. You realize my position—that [I don’t want this matter known to the de- = of the bank—even to the stock- ers—as long as there is any chance of Se money's being recovered. My cashier . is the only man here besides myself who knows it was taken. I have temporarily re- placed the amount from my ‘own funds. And of course I want that hundred thousand back. ButI want McCray, too!” Again he pounded on the desk with his clenched fist. *“Go on; what’s your plan?”’ “My plan is to send this young man,” nodding in the direction of Willis, ‘‘out to Dolvin to get a job with the saw-mill com- pany there. He is from a town up the state and has been living here only since McCray has been gone. So there is no chance of McCray’s knowing who he is. I have given him a detailed description of the man we are looking for, and he has studied carefully several photographs which we have been able to get hold of. ' “His business will be to meet this man Trueman and learn as speedily as possible if he is the man we're after. If Trueman is McCray, he will try to gain the man’s con- : fidence, to a certain extent, watch him care- fully and learn, if possible, where the money is hidden. Those swamps up there would make an ideal hiding place. I have learned, by the way, that McCray’s old home is somewhere up in that neighborhood.” Jepther Ross turned and gazed so steadily at Willis that the young man flushed. “All right,” he said tersely, “you know what I want—both the money and the man, Go to it!” THIS interview was still fresh in == the memory of Willis Shaw as he =—=— stood late that afternoon on the = front porch of the mill boarding- house looking off across the bared slope to the plant at the foot of the hill. He could hear the whine of the big circular saw as the log was driven upon it, the swift, rumbling retreat of the carriage when the cut was finished. The dull thud of squared timber, shunted from the skids, reverberated through the misty dusk. Came the sharp slap as board was piled on board. Farther along, the machines in the planer droned in acon- tinuous monotone. The many lights about Adventure the plant gave it mye Oe pees of a mina- ture city. — y, the big whistle of the at boomed, drowning the lesser sounds, followed a moment eer Dee by the hoarser, lesser volume from the whistle at the planer. The whine of saw and hum of machinery ceased; the engines slowed down, stopped. Where there had been a confu- sion of many sounds reigned silence. From the saw-mill, planer, lumber camps and stock sheds streamed those who, throughout the day had toiled there— brawny negroes, dinner bucket swung on arm, straggling to the quarters beyond the branch; those whites who lived with their . families in the company houses; the com- paratively few who stayed at the boarding- house. At the supper table a half hour later, he was seated opposite Trueman, whom, from the photographs he carried, Willis recognized instantly, even before his name was called boisterously by Hansen, the big Swede: “Hey you, there, Yim Trueman,” the wede said as he leaned forward and speared a boiled potato with his fork, “cuttin’ them small logs up live into deckin’ and piece — stuff keeps us yumpin’, Ill say so.” “Jumping is right,” Trueman replied with a laugh as, contrary to custom, he passed to Willis a dish of hash before helping his own plate. “TI feed that edger so —— fast that it seem like one piece of lumber go through all the time,’”” Hansen continued. side that edger, you off-bear the lumber so lively it seem like you dancin’. I seen you go wobbly just before knockin’-off time. I think old bear got you sure.” “He was right behind me, Carl.” “He get you tomorrow, maybe.” “Oh, no. I’ve been promoted.” “‘Promoted?” The murmur went up from the men, and “On the other - they paused in the hasty bolting of their — food to gaze at Trueman. “Yes; the foreman told me he wanted me on the log-deck to scale. He’s going to move Winters from the scaling job to the pond.” Willis noticed that the men smiled and nodded in approval. “That job on the log- deck’s a cinch—and more pay,” remarked one. ‘““Knowed you was too good a man to stay in that off-bearin’ job long,” said Tobe Westgate, a grizzled little man who fired the dry-kiln. Eomicboo (@) <S:CcO